Futile Revenge
by Saluki
Summary: What happens when a young girl discovers that the one she has come to seek revenge on is dead and all that is left is the body he once inhabited? SiegfriedOC MF Rated M for: violence, gore and future lemons
1. Prolouge

_Futile Revenge_

_**Prologue**_

Cynthia clutched her dagger close to her thumping heart as she peered around the castle grounds. Waves of mist rolled around the decrepit gray building in the moonlight like wandering spirits and the scent of damp earth lingered in her nose. The girls' long black hair was matted and stiff with blood and sweat and her tan face, smeared with it. The tights she was wearing beneath her ripped and faded pink tunic were badly nicked in several places and she had various cuts and bruises about her body. Despite this, she was fueled by hatred, by love, by the thought of revenge. Now as she saw another soldier guarding the perimeter she sped forward, her lucid green eyes not perceiving a 6'4 golem, only another victim to kill. Her silver dagger in hand, she charged for the creature with lightning ferocity but to her surprise, he was fast as well, bringing his enormous iron ax out in front of him to deflect her attack. The impact of her hitting the broad blade caused her to fall backwards, but she gripped her small weapon tightly.

Now the golem was towering over her, ax raised and he brought it down swiftly but Cynthia managed to roll out of its range and flip agilely back onto her feet, slicing at her opponent's arm which didn't spill an ounce of blood. He turned his milky white eyes towards her and growled in agitation, flinging a punch in her direction but she dodged it and leapt at him again, thrusting her dagger into his shoulder this time. Still he seemed to be more irritated than injured like a person being bitten by a mosquito and yet again there was no blood. He hurled her off of him; the dagger still lodged in his shoulder blade. As if it was an afterthought, he pulled it out and flung it over his back while cracking his knuckles and walking towards her. Even weaponless, Cynthia could feel nothing but malice and detestation and she charged towards the brute, arms at the ready. She was struck oppressively by the flat of the ax and sent flying, a purple bruise already forming on her cheek but she stubbornly pulled herself up again and then stopped suddenly.

The golem was no longer paying her any mind and had turned towards a dark red-eyed figure dressed in black armor. "Astaroth, we have some unwanted visitors that I need you to take care of," said the knight in his deep voice. "But Nightmare," protested Astaroth, "I'm fighting that girl over there. She is intent on doing harm." Nightmare turned his head towards the girl and his glowing red eyes radiated hostility. Cynthia could feel her rage expanding as she recognized her parents' killer and she stood firmly where she was, her eyes glaring dead into the knights'. He then turned back towards Astaroth and said, "She does not even possess a weapon. Do not waste your time with her." The golem nodded and stalked off towards the front of the ancient castle. These words only spurred on Cynthia's rage as the knight turned to depart. He had never noticed her before and now that he finally had, she wasn't even worth fighting? The girl dashed towards where her dagger had been thrown but by the time it was in her hands the knight had vanished. She sheathed it furiously but swore to herself that she would acquire her revenge.

A thin sorrel tabby cat perched outside of Cynthia's bedroom window, mewing to be let in as she slept soundly. The young girl stretched and yawned widely, rubbing her aqua green eyes and then smiling sleepily. "Opal, you never want to come inside at night... what's the matter? The hunting's not good tonight?" The cat replied with a louder yowl and began to scratch at the window with his small white paws; gray eyes wide with fear. "Oh... the neighbor's dog got out again? Is that it, scaredy cat?" she giggled, pulling up the window and letting the feline dart inside. He instantly fled underneath her bed without another sound. Looking befuddled by the cats' strange behavior, the young teen peered outside of her window and once she did she knew what was wrong. Fire was ravaging many of the village houses and the citizens were screaming in horror and panic, fleeing from a lone dark figure. At first she could not make it out but as it came closer, it revealed itself to be a knight dressed in black armor and wielding a hideous sword that was as tall as him. In the center of its meaty mass, was a large round gray eye that swiveled around in its socket appearing to watch the chaos that ensued.

With a single swing of this red blade, the knight succeeded in killing his victims and absorbing a wispy something from their slaughtered bodies. Cynthia pulled away from the window, tears of abhorrence in her eyes. She tried to lure Opal from under the bed but the cat stayed there stubbornly and hissed and scratched when she endeavored to pull him from underneath it. Finally she let the cat be and dashed into her parents' room, screaming to them the events that were taking place. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes and crawled out of bed to look out of the kitchen window and their eyes were soon aghast. "We must hurry up and flee!" cried her father, grabbing his coat and pulling them all towards the door. Cynthia ran beside her parents, the heat of fire stinging the back of her and the cool night air, the front. All around her were the shrieks and wailing of fellow citizens but she tried to drown them out and focus on the path ahead.

They were fairly close to the outskirts of the village so they would have a chance of escape. Others were fleeing along with them, one being Cynthia's best friend, Rachael and her family and a bit of relief spread over her. Suddenly, she heard her father's voice cry out in agony and blood sprayed upon her, peppering her clothes. She was too frightened to turn and watch, though. The sight of what might be there to greet her eyes too painful to bear so she continued running even when her mother's scream rang through her ears as well. Tears blurred her vision but fear spurred her onwards and soon she was sobbing silently inside of a clump of bushes as the distant screams and roar of fire could still be detected.


	2. Chapter I: Futile Revenge

Chapter I: Futile Revenge

Cynthia moved cautiously up the ancient gray stone steps of the castle, rage burning in her heart as she did. She had learned to control her anger to some degree so as not to let it get her killed but it would unleash to its full extent in battle. Even though it often put her into grave peril, her wrath replaced fear and hesitation, which could prove lethal when fighting. She was now upon the double doors which towered over her thin form and she pulled one open to find it swing smoothly outward. The inside of the building was just as unkempt as the outside with wooden furniture overturned and rotting in dark corners, dust settling on everything around and small creatures scampering in all directions as Cynthia traveled on. She estimated that possibly millions of spiders had chosen to make this their home by the amount of spider webs in the place. The air was damp and cold, seemingly heavier than the already stale air outside and as Cynthia traveled on she began to get goose bumps from the cold.

The only light available was the moonlight that filtered in from a few small arched windows way up high making it difficult to see but she managed to find her way to a door where she pressed one ear to its dank rotting wood. After waiting for nearly a minute she finally pushed open the door and gasped in astonishment. A young man dressed in light armor lay upon the cobblestone, a large puddle of blood surrounding him and soaking into his long blonde hair. A curiously crystallized blue thin sword lay beside him, a dull light shimmering from hilt to blade. The stranger's eyes were shut tightly in pain and his arms were hugging his chest, which was presumably where his wound resided. Cynthia perceived the fragments of the massive red sword strewn across the ground as well as the dark armor that the knight she was searching for wore. A feeling of anger rose up inside of her as the realization that somebody else must have killed Nightmare came to her, then she reverted her attention towards the wounded man. He was most likely the usurper of her vengeance but there was only one way to be sure.

"You," she called, walking over to him. His blue eyes flickered open and stared dully at her, already beginning to glaze over with death. "Are you the one who defeated Nightmare?" He simply stared at her with pain in his face and then closed his eyes once more. Cynthia knew that if she wanted answers she was going to have to save this person, so she hesitantly stepped over him, his warm blood surrounding the heels of her boots, and removed his chest armor and the thin clothing underneath. His chest was well toned and muscular but Cynthia's attention was drawn towards the deep narrow gash just beneath where his heart should be. She would have to stop the bleeding right away so she ripped the bottom of her tunic off and then wrapped it tightly around the man's chest, pressing on the cut to slow the flow of blood.

She could still feel his ragged breaths but they were beginning to slow, signifying that he had probably lost too much blood but Cynthia would not give up that easily. "Look," she said to her patient in a stern tone. "Don't move. I'm going to perform a healing spell." He partially opened his eyes but did nothing more as Cynthia closed her eyes in meditation, dexterously forming an unobservable illustration into thin air. She then softly blew into the cool air, using a hand to guide it towards where she'd been previously weaving and the image flared into existence, its intricate design branded into nothingness. Suddenly, the lines and swirls began to unwind, flowing soundlessly into Siegfried's open wound before forcing his severed flesh shut. "Now you should be fine," she announced to him, standing up. For a while the man simply stared down with amazed eyes at location which had housed a grave wound only a moment before and then uncertainly got to his feet, blood dripping from his stained hair. "Th-thank you," he said, quietly. "You're welcome. Now in exchange for saving your life, you will tell me what happened. You can start by telling me your name," Cynthia ordered staring directly into those soft blue eyes.

The man nodded and said, "My name is Siegfried Schtauffen. I was a bandit until I went out to search for the cursed sword, Soul Edge in order to avenge my father's death. However, I've been plagued by the sword ever since I laid hands on its hilt. For longer than I can remember I have been slaughtering countless innocents in criticism an attempt to bring my father back from the dead... I know now that I was being foolish. I suppose you want revenge for loved ones?" A spark of hope lit up in Cynthia's heart. The man who killed her parents and friends was still alive, unarmed and right in front of her! She said, "You are correct, Mr. Schtauffen. I am here for revenge." She unsheathed her dagger, ready for her victim to either flee or lash out at her but to her surprise he did neither. Instead he remained where he was a stationed, deep blue eyes staring defiantly into her own. "I will not allow you to kill me. I am _not_ Nightmare." Cynthia kept her eyes hardened in concentration, her mouth firmly shut and her hand clenched so tightly around the hilt of her weapon that it began to shake. Then a certain realization gradually entered her mind. This man was right. He could not help what the sword had made him do. She didn't have the right to take his life. The man she was after was Nightmare, not Siegfried. She sheathed her dagger once more and sighed. "You're right, you're not the man I'm after," she muttered, walking towards the door. Siegfried slowly raised his head and stood up, calling out to her, "Thank you for realizing that."

She turned her head and nodded then exited the castle feeling peculiar. She had come into the castle to kill the man who had killed her parents and ended up saving him... or at least the body he was using. As she walked, Cynthia slowed down, her mind still lingering on the young man she had saved. What would he do now? He had no family, no friends, nothing to go back to as far as she was concerned. She hesitantly turned back and once again entered the room to find Siegfried staring dejectedly out of a castle window. He turned instantly when he heard Cynthia enter and a perplexed expression occupied his face. "Did you change your mind," he asked. Cynthia sighed and muttered, "No. I was just curious. What are you going to do now?" Siegfried turned his head back towards the window and sighed, "I'm going to find a way to seal Soul Edge forever." "You mean to say that it's not utterly destroyed?" Snapped Cynthia. "In that case, I'm going with you. I still have a chance to acquire my revenge!"

The man shrugged indifferently and muttered, "Do as you wish. Just don't slow me down." Cynthia's teeth gritted against one-another and she gave Siegfried a venomous glare. "I won't. If anything, you'll be struggling to keep up with me." Siegfried turned his now calculating eyes upon her for a few moments and then muttered, "For your sake, I hope you're correct because I won't turn back to help you if you get into trouble." The girl's cheeks flushed with fury and she snapped, "Just who do you think you are! I'm not the one who just got beaten to a bloody pulp, ok? I'm the one who just saved your sorry ss!" The man smiled softly at her and then responded, "Then it's settled. Let us depart. By the way... you didn't give me your name." "And I don't see the need to do that," Cynthia snarled. "Fine. Then I suppose you wouldn't mind me making up a substitute for your name?" he asked with indifference. The girl glared up at him for a few moments before muttering, "It's Cynthia, ok?" He nodded and rose; blood still dripping from his straw yellow hair and Cynthia grudgingly followed, still fuming silently. The two were soon traversing through the thick woods surrounding the castle towards the nearest town.


	3. Chapter II: Magvel Forest

**_Chapter II: Magvel_** **_Forest_**

"We should be at Magvel in two days if we rest sparingly," Siegfried announced, brushing branches out of his path as he walked ahead. "I sure hope so," Cynthia groaned silently while clutching her stomach. She dug a hand though her satchel and cursed under her breath when it did not come into contact with any food. She must have depleted the last of her rations prior to her skirmish with Astaroth. The moss-draped trees towered nearly twenty feet above the two as they traveled and plants, shrubs, grasses and flowers seemed to shoot up everywhere. Cynthia's feet began to drag along the worn dirt path they were traversing but she was certain to keep a close distance between Siegfried and herself lest he regard her as fragile. That was the very last thing she desired. She gave a cry of joy when she heard a low rumbling noise in the distance and rushed forwards so that she was ahead of her companion. "What is it?" he asked, sounding puzzled. "Don't you hear it? Water!" "Are you thirsty?" "No, but I'm dirty."

He gave her a blank face and Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Boys underestimate hygiene." She then ignored Siegfried and clambered over a pile of square, moss-covered rocks and her eyes sparkled upon reaching the apex. A thundering waterfall plummeted into a large spring encompassed by small spherical pebbles and malleable green water plants. When Siegfried arrived she thrust her bag into his hands and said, "Hold this until I'm finished bathing. Until then, go somewhere." The blonde stared at the bag for a moment and then walked off into the woods. Instantly pulling her tunic, pants and shirt off and tossing them onto the rocks, Cynthia dived into the cool clear water and gave a delighted laugh. She couldn't recall the last time she had laughed like that... She cleansed all of the dirt, sweat and blood from of her tan skin and submerged her entire body beneath the water. The cool liquid soothed her sore body and reinvigorated her spirit and she lay in the pool, lids dropping lightly across her eyes, letting out a whimsical sigh. Soon Cynthia couldn't tell if she'd been in the water for minutes or hours, allowing the still water to massage her body and the sweet music of the birds to soothe her but she suddenly gasped as she heard someone walking towards the spring. Siegfried emerged from the brush and instantly ducked when a rock flew by his head.

"What the heck are you doing here, you fcking pervert? I thought I told you to go somewhere!" Cynthia yelled with reddening cheeks. "I went to check on you because you were taking too long to come back. You've been bathing for nearly an hour," he replied impassively. Sighing, the girl shook her head causing tiny droplets to fly in all directions and she muttered, "You don't need to worry about me. You can bathe now, I need to dry my clothes." Siegfried nodded and turned around but Cynthia growled, "Go far away, please. I'll call you when you can come back." Without another word, the man had left and Cynthia pulled herself out of the spring. _I need someplace to dry off now,_ she thought. She then peered around and spotted a towering rock close by the waterfall kissed by the sun's warm rays. She immediately climbed up, lying down between two good-sized rocks and laying her clothing out beside her. "Ok, Siegfried. Your turn," she called. Then she stretched out in the sunlight and closed her eyes.

She was shaken awake several hours later and saw Siegfried's worried face bathed in the moonlight when she opened her eyes. "Hey!" she exclaimed pushing him off of her as she recalled that she was wearing no clothes. "If you keep this up we're not going to be traveling together anymore. You keep your distance and if you need to-" "Shhh!" he interrupted, looking warily around. "I think there are other people near here. Get dressed." He then climbed down the rocks and was gone. Cynthia immediately rose and snatched up her clothes and pack, throwing them on and then followed Siegfried. He was standing tensely and looking out into the dark trees. "Do you think it's safe to continue?" Cynthia whispered once she reached him. "No. If we go out there, we could be surrounded or assaulted from behind. It would be best to back up against the rocks if anyone attacks." The girl nodded and immediately backed up against the large stones along with Siegfried. "Do you have any weapons?" he questioned. "Yeah. I have my dagger." Just at that moment, a short slender girl with a torn revealing green shirt and low-riding tight pants leapt down from the trees and said, "Well you two are a pair of wary cats.

But unfortunately that won't be enough to save you from me. Hand over Soul Calibur and I'll make your deaths quick," she ordered. "I think not," growled Siegfried, pulling his crystal blue sword of incredible length from its scabbard. It pulsed within his hand as if eager for battle and he darted towards the girl. She nimbly leapt over him, slashing at his right arm. Flinching in pain, Siegfried struggled to keep his fingers curled around the hilt of Soul Calibur and swung it in his attacker's direction. Once again she leapt out of his range, a teasing expression upon her pale face. "What's the matter, Siggy? I would expect the one who overcame the great Nightmare to have more fight in him. You don't pleasure me at all!" She slammed her bladed ring across his middle, slicing through the thinner fabric and spilling blood. He groaned in pain, and lashed out blindly in the small girl's direction. She easily dodged his attacks and let out a demented giggle. "How disappointing... I was hoping for a more entertaining fight but it looks like I'll have to end your life now..." she raised her ring blade only to scream as Cynthia's dagger dug into her back. Cynthia instantly removed it and growled, "back off, btch!" Clasping a hand to her back, the teen's violet eyes flashed with malice and she screamed, "You have some nerve calling Tira such a word. Now you shall die, first!" Brushing back her blue-green bangs from her face, Tira swung her blade at Cynthia, nearly making contact with her left arm. "You missed, btch," Cynthia snarled, planting her dagger into Tira's right leg.

She howled in agony and then screamed, "I'll KILL you!" Her teasing little smirk had cleared from her face in an instant, eyes hardening, and with lightening speed, slammed the flat of her ring blade into Cynthia's face. Her feet left the ground; back making contact with it an instant later. The girl stepped over her exposed stomach, the blade of her ring leaving cruel gashes in it as she laughed maniacally. Her laughter came short to be substituted with a shriek and the jet-haired teenager could hear the dull thud of a body slamming against a tree. She unsteadily pulled herself up to observe the slender form of her assailant staggering into the branches. Siegfried sheathed Soul Calibur, beginning to walk south once more and said, "Well, shall we continue?" Cynthia nodded shouting, "I thought you said you wouldn't turn back to help me if I got into trouble?" "Well, this case was different. You intervened with my battle. I wasn't going to just leave you behind," he replied. "But next time... you're on your own."


	4. Chapter III: The Town of Magvel

**_Chapter III: The Town of Magvel_**

Memories of her old home flooded back to Cynthia the moment that they set foot into Magvel town but she was long past the crying stage. Children scrambled after dogs in the roads causing donkeys and horses to stop in their tracks from time to time and there was a great mixture of livestock and people in the dirt roads. Small white shingled houses were lined serenely along the streets and small shops were set up everywhere. "Well let's see, we need food and clothing," said Cynthia, walking towards a tailor's shop. She turned towards Siegfried, a puzzled look upon her face as she observed him staring wide-eyed at a large group of men, who everyone seemed to be keen to avoid. "What's wrong, Siegfried?" Cynthia asked, eyeing the rugged men with suspicion. "That is the gang of bandits that I once belonged to... the Black Wind," muttered Siegfried disbelief written all over his face. "You used to be a member of the Black Wind? The most feared and ruthless bandits in all of Europe!" she exclaimed swinging her head to the blonde. "Yes... I was their leader," he growled, adverting his blue eyes in shame.

"Well then I guess that evil sword chose a suitable puppet for its evil-doing. You probably had fun killing all of those people," she snapped, running off into the crowd. She ruthlessly pushed past the Black Wind as they walked and had vanished before they could protest. Siegfried halted his pursuit of her then and stood face to face with his former colleges. For a moment, they simply stared, disbelieving, at him. An impressively tall dark-haired man with smooth ebony hair and nearly black eyes rushed over to the blonde. "Is that you, Siegfried? What am I talking about? Who else would have such pretty blonde hair and blue eyes?" he teased giving him a friendly clap on the back. Smiling, Siegfried replied, "It's nice to see all of you again but I need to find someone now." A short thin man no older than twenty sped towards Siegfried, his floppy brown hair rising and falling with each step. "No way! You owe us an explanation. You've been gone for nearly six years!"

"I guess I can't get out of it then," he muttered. "Sure can't," a broad-shouldered redhead laughed. "But we should get a room and talk there." Siegfried nodded and he hesitantly followed his old colleagues to a large cleanly inn nestled at the edge of the town. The dark-eyed man lead the way into the warm inn, everyone scrambling into corners or the side of the walls as they walked by. "We're going to be staying here for a day if you don't mind," he grumbled to the innkeeper. The balding thin man was standing stalk-still besides his uncontrollable shivering and he squeaked, "N-no problem at all, sir! We w-will reserve the very best rooms for y-you and your men." He signaled to a maid who scrambled up the stairs, leading three people out of their rooms a moment later while she promised them compensation. Once they laid eyes on the bandits they did not complain, snatching up their money and rushing out of the inn. Once settled into one large room, all circled about Siegfried, the gang demanded his story.

With a deep sigh he said, "I'm sure that you all have heard of the fearsome Nightmare. Well... he was me." His blue eyes scanned the astonished faces of each man and the twenty-year old finally exclaimed, "Wow! What came over you? You never liked killing people." "It wasn't me. It was this sword I found about six years ago when I went out to search for Soul Edge." Soon he was retelling the entire story the bandits greedily consuming each word he spoke with wide-eyed enthusiasm until he'd finished. "So that rude little btch who pushed past us was this Cynthia who saved your life?" asked Keyol. "It's a good thing you told me now because I went and taught her a lesson in manners." Siegfried shuddered at the thought of what became of people Keyol decided to teach "lessons." "Well we should get some shuteye, guys. Good to have you back, Seig," mumbled a bald man with an eye-patch. Other members of his former gang crowded around him to welcome him back as well before they all went to sleep.


	5. Chapter IV: Forgiveness

Chapter IV: Forgiveness

Cynthia lay curled in a dark corner, the damp cool wall pressing against her skin and a bitter wind tossing her wild hair. She stared fiercely into the darkness as if attempting to drive it away. She could remember the bandits that had brutally raped and slain her younger sister and would have done the same for her had she not stayed hidden underneath her bed, shaking with fear as she witnessed the entire thing. She'd only been ten or so at the time but the memory was imprinted into her mind as if it had happened no more than a week ago. Why did this man, Siegfried seem to be linked to everything she hated? Maybe she should have killed him while she had the chance. She began to shiver in the frigid wind and squeezed tighter into her ball, clenching her teeth so as to stop their chattering. "Cold?" asked a deep voice from behind her. She instantly uncurled and leapt to her feet, dagger in hand. It was Siegfried, dressed in a warm fur coat. "Get away from me!" she shrieked in rage. "I told you that I used to be a bandit before you joined up with me. Why does it matter now?" he asked, eyes firmly on Cynthia's. "Because... the Black Wind has caused my family and I much suffering. Of course you or those other monsters wouldn't remember what you did," she bitterly snapped. "Well whatever that may be, I apologize. Besides, I told the Black Wind that I will no longer travel with them.

Our plan was to find and eternally destroy Soul Edge was it not?" Cynthia looked up at him in surprise. "So... you're not going back?" He gave her a warm smile, his mild cerulean eyes radiant with patience. "Is that what you were so upset about?" The young teen could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as they reddened and she stammered, "N-no! Not at all!" Siegfried laughed mirthfully as Cynthia turned in embarrassment. It was the first time Cynthia had heard his laughter and it brought joy to her heart, ringing with gentleness and purity. "So where are we going to stay, anyhow?" she finally asked. Still holding a slight grin upon his face, he replied, "The inn I was staying at graciously presented me with 40,000 gold. It should be enough to purchase everything we need." Deciding to ignore the fact that he'd probably demanded the money, Cynthia sighed, "Well then we'd better get going." Siegfried nodded and she followed him to a small secure inn in which they purchased separate rooms and Cynthia soon dozed off, a wan smile upon her face.

Cynthia stretched lazily, warm sunlight beaming in from the opened window of her room and she pulled herself out from underneath the thick blue sheets of her bed. Pushing open the wooden door of her room she turned the corner where she nearly ran into Siegfried. His long blonde hair was damp and hung in strands and he was adorned with a plain white robe. "Good morning," he greeted warmly, giving her one of his gentle smiles. For a moment Cynthia's eyes lingered on his exposed broad well-muscled chest and then shot up to his face. "I-I'm sorry. Morning," she stuttered, already pacing past him. She could hear him chuckling softly to himself and her face flushed brightly. She made her way to the bathroom and hurled herself in, immediately stripping off her clothing and climbing into the tub. It was already filled with hot water and Cynthia sighed. She scrubbed her ragged brown hair with soap after washing her skin carefully and then let her entire body be emerged in the heated liquid. Once finished, she climbed out, wiping herself with a plain towel and then wrapping her hair up in it as well as one for her body. Feeling refreshed, she skipped back off into her room and nearly screamed when she found Siegfried there, already dressed, sitting on the side of her bed. "I understand that you're an ex-bandit but that doesn't give you a right to go sneaking into other people's rooms! Get out!" Cynthia snapped, pointing towards the door. "Hold on, I wanted to give you this," he stated, holding up a silken red dress. Her eyes immediately softened as she received her gift. "Thank you, Siegfried. That was very thoughtful of you, but how did you know what size to get me?" He looked completely innocent as he said; "I've been observing you since we met so I had a pretty good idea." Cynthia hardened her gaze once more and pointed towards the door. Shrugging, Siegfried departed. "I swear, he seems so innocent no matter what he does!" she cursed under her breath.

The dress fit perfectly, all right, and the soft silk hugged her skin gracefully. Cynthia walked downstairs where she saw Siegfried sitting at a table dressed in splendid silver armor lined with gold and fringed with bright red feathers, his lovely blonde hair tied back into a horsetail. "What's the occasion? Are we attending a wedding or something?" Cynthia asked. Smiling, the brigand replied, "No. You are to be a member of royalty and I, your knight. Fewer bandits will approach us that way. I purchased two horses and new weapons as well. Here, wear this." He handed her an elegant golden circlet. "I'm glad that you have this all planned out," muttered Cynthia as she accepted the circlet and placed it on her neatly groomed black hair. The two went outside, walking over to their white steeds, which were tied to the fence at the side of the inn. The teenager uncertainly approached one, feigning fearlessness and experience as she climbed onto the back of the beast with surprising ease. She untied the bridle from the fence and waited until Siegfried was seated upon his horse. She witnessed the way in which he kicked the horse slightly to make it move forward and did the same for herself. The animal did not budge. "What's wrong?" Siegfried asked, looking amused as he watched Cynthia erratically kicking at the horse. "Apply more pressure," he suggested. She obeyed and the horse moved forward slowly, its refined hooves chopping into the damp soil. To her relief, the equine simply followed its companion without instruction while she clutched the halter.


End file.
